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by lafiametta, lilithenaltum



Category: Outsiders (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene, Pastor King Being a Dipshit, Playing House, Sasil, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 19:12:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6436861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafiametta/pseuds/lafiametta, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithenaltum/pseuds/lilithenaltum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hasil and Sally Ann are reunited in two missing scenes from Episode 9.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> So this was written in response to the massive jump between scenes in episode 9. A lot of Sasilites complained that we didn't get to see the reunion of Hasil and Sally-Ann and the two of us agreed...it made no sense to have Hasil go from being "rescued" by Haylie Grimes to on the couch with Sally Ann, not after what he and she went through to be together.
> 
> And so, after some chatting on Tumblr and a little brainstorming, we came up with the idea to write those missing episode 9 scenes, ones of Sasil playing house, ones of them reconciling and explaining their feelings, and ones of them expressing those feelings after Asa leaves. We hope this helps fill the gaps a little bit and we both had a lot of fun writing this together. 
> 
> L & M

As he moved, a jagged slice of pain caught in his side, and Hasil pressed his hand to it, wincing as he felt out the tenderness, wondering if maybe he had cracked a rib. After they had cornered him by the fence, they hadn’t been too gentle in getting him into the truck. At one point, he remembered hazily, he had been knocked to the ground and kicked in the side, an act that seemed to him unnecessary and rather cowardly, as they already possessed the clear advantage of firearms.

He was keeping to the back ways, finding the scrubby wooded paths that led up to the empty house on the hill. He had been staying there for the past few days – with the exception of last night – having no other place to go at this point. He knew going back up the mountain was too dangerous, with the new Bren’in in charge, and while Asa certainly had cause to be concerned about getting his throat cut while he slept, he wasn’t the only one. Hasil knew he ought to feel some regret for talking to Big Foster the way he did that night, for throwing all the contents of that jug of wine in his face; had he not been so impulsive, he might be able to hobble home right now and tend to his injuries in the privacy of his own cabin. But Big Foster had earned that recompense, and it had felt so good to serve it up. This exile, he hoped, would only be temporary and self-imposed, and once he had found Sally-Ann and made sure she was safe, perhaps he would be able to return without the fear of permanent banishment hanging over his head.

 _Oh, Sally-Ann_ … He couldn’t understand why he hadn’t found her yet, how she had been able to elude him for so long. Normally, he had a sense of these things, an uncanny way of knowing where she was, honed over years of tracking and hunting all kinds of creatures, but so far it had offered him nothing. She hadn’t left town – he could somehow sense that, at least – but it was killing him not being able to actually set his eyes upon her and talk to her. He wanted so badly to reassure her that he would do everything in his power to protect her from her brother, and perhaps, after all that had passed between them, he might even be able to convince her to be with him again.

He could feel his breathing becoming more labored as he walked, and by the time he neared the house, all he wanted was to lay down and sleep for the next four days or so. But he didn’t have that luxury; Asa would be coming by soon, wanting to talk about their plans for earning money. Hasil smiled a little, even through the pain, knowing that what he had to share with Asa would be worth more than dozens of jugs of Farrell Wine. He would have to explain the beating, though, all the swelling and the blood caking on the side of his face. Earlier, he had made a half-hearted attempt to clean himself up, wiping the excess blood away with his the bottom of his shirt, but it had stung so bad he knew he would have to wait until he got inside to do it properly.

Hasil skirted around the side of the house – he knew he could probably hoist himself through the window, but simply walking through the front door seemed altogether more appealing – and after glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he scrambled up towards the porch, his only goal to get inside and out of sight as quickly as possible. But something caught his eye as he darted up the steps, something he knew hadn’t been there when he left.

He would have recognized it anywhere, of course, as he was the one who had made it, having spent a leisurely afternoon letting it emerge out of a block of wood, the blade of his knife tracing out the finer details of tail feathers and wings. Beyond all that, its rough-hewn shape was etched onto his memory for the single fact that the last time he had seen it, it had been in her hands. He could still recall everything so perfectly: the way she held the carved bird so delicately with her fingertips, her eyes downcast even as they sparked with curiosity and delight, how her tiny, sweet smile had somehow been able to illuminate everything around her.

The only way it could be here now, though, was if she had put it there. And the only reason she would have put it there was because she wanted him to see it. She had wanted him to know she was here. At last – finally – she had wanted to be found.

Now he couldn’t get to the door quickly enough, all thoughts of cleaning off his face and resting his body vanishing with the thought of seeing her again. There was a tiny lock – more nuisance than anything else – and as he turned the handle and pushed the door open, all he could see in the flooded pools of early afternoon sunshine was her tiny form, tucked into the far corner of the couch, her eyes blinking open out of sleep.

Everything about her was so beautiful – it always had been – but as she sat, suspended in the light, the skin of her bare legs glowing like the edge of a sunrise, her heart-shaped face transforming as she fully woke, it was hard for him to understand how she could possibly be meant for this earth. And her hair – now released from its intricate braided confines – was so wild and free, softly surrounding her face like a vast and magnificent corona. He drank her in, wondering how she could look so different, yet somehow still exactly herself.

And she looked unharmed, no marks of injury or attack marring her body, and for that he was truly grateful. Some kind, watchful spirit had looked over her and kept her safe while they were apart; now, though, it was his turn.

“Hasil…” she whispered, her voice still thick with sleep. She leaned forward, her eyes focusing more closely on where he stood in front of the door. “Is that you?”

He could have answered her question, but there was something far more important he had to ask her.

“Sally-Ann,” he said quietly, as he closed the door behind him and stepped closer towards her. “Are ya okay? I jus’ need ta know…”

She pushed herself up off the couch and onto her feet, the lower half of her body now bathed in light, her gaze held steady as he slowly approached.

“I’m okay,” she said, nodding slightly. “I’m…” And then she paused, her eyes widening as she took him in completely. “Oh my god, Hasil, what happened to you? Are you alright?”

Unconsciously, she moved towards him, reaching out, delicately tracing her fingers across the left side of his face. If there was any pain, he didn’t feel it; there was nothing he could feel now besides pure happiness, the joy of knowing that some part of her still cared for him, still felt enough for him to want to touch him out of worry and affection. It was almost enough for him to want to close his eyes and simply let his broken face settle into her palm.

“‘S fine, ‘s nothin’,” he breathed. “It don’t matter none.”

“But who did this?” she asked, her eyes bright with concern.

He didn’t say anything, because how could he, really? How could he tell her what had happened, how he had been run down like an animal, caught and trapped, and tied up as a captive in some strange house? How could he tell her that her own brother lacked the courage to meet him as a man, being merely content to deliver blows he knew couldn’t be returned?

She looked at him, biting her lips together, as she slowly pulled her hand away.

“It was my brother, wasn’t it?”

He nodded reluctantly, his gaze casting down towards the ground. “Him an’ two others,” he said, and then sighed, rubbing his hand against his forehead. “Tha’s where I was las’ night.”

“Hasil…”

But he realized that he didn’t want to spend any more time talking about what had happened to him; he didn’t even want to think about it any more. Mostly, he just wanted to look at her, let himself get used to the idea that she was right here, standing right in front of him, just as he had imagined so many times.

“Nah, lis’en…” he said. “It don’t matter.”

The urge to touch her was so strong, and even though he knew she could just as easily push him away, he couldn’t help but reach his hand out towards her, letting it settle on the bare skin of her upper arm. She looked down at his hand, and then back up again at him, the quiet settling in all around them as they held each other’s gaze. But even in that stillness he could feel the flames catching along his palm, a burst of heat marking the place where their bodies connected.

“Where ya been, Sally-Ann?” he finally asked. “I been tryin’ ta find ya for so long.” He smiled a little at her, smoothing his thumb over her skin. “I though’ ta come here firs’ but there was no sign a’ ya. I waited here, th’ whole night…” He paused, the memory of that night coursing through him like a rough river current. He had waited, stirring at every sound, every creak of the house, and woke alone in the pale morning light, his whole heart feeling empty yet simultaneously full of regret. “I kep’ lookin’, askin’ aroun’ for ya. Nobody’d tell me nothin’.”

She looked away, her face soft even as her eyes begin to darken with some hidden hurt. And then she took a few steps back, turning towards the window next to the fireplace, her gaze unfocused as she stared out at the sunlit trees beyond.

“I didn’t mean for you to worry, Hasil… It’s just… I was real angry at you for a while. You didn’t listen to me, and you came to my house, and then with what happened with James –”

“I’m sorry ‘bout that, I am…” he said, the words rushing out of him uncontrollably. “I didn’ mean ta really hurt ‘im. I jus’ couldn’ let ‘im lay hands on ya like that –”

“I know. But I was scared. I couldn’t go home after that... And I didn’t want to see you.” She sighed softly, pulling her arms up against her chest. “I went and stayed with a friend. She was workin’ most of the time, so I had a lot of time to think…” She turned her head to look at him, her expression etched with wariness. “I’ve been afraid for a long time… for years. You don’t know what that’s like, to live in that kind of fear. It’s like wearin’ a pair of glasses so dark you can’t really see nothin’, and all you can do is feel around and pray you don’t run into anythin’… or you just stop movin’ altogether. It took me a few days of sittin’ and thinkin’, and bein’ mad at you, but then I realized I wasn’t wearin’ those glasses anymore. I could see things now, all kinds of things.”

Hasil took a breath, feeling the air start to return to his lungs. He had known she had been keeping herself deliberately hidden – he would have found her otherwise – but perhaps now he had reason to hope that she had come back here for a reason, to tell him what he so desperately wanted to hear.

“Like what?” he asked, making every attempt to hide the fact that his heart was about ready to burst out of his chest.

“I never had anybody who cared about me that much… My momma and daddy, they both left, and my brother… well, what he feels ain’t really carin’ at all. And then you came along… I didn’t believe it at first: you were so strange and it didn’t make any sense, you talkin’ to me the way you did, lookin’ for me all the time.” She let out a soft breath, warmth flooding into her eyes. “I believe it now,” she added. “So last night I left her house and I came here… I thought if there was any place you’d try to look for me, this would be it. You weren’t around, but I could tell you had been. I thought maybe I’d leave you a sign, up on the porch, so you’d know I was here.”

But as wonderful and astonishing as it was for him to hear her say these things, it wasn’t enough. He had been through so much – so many days of worried searching, so many times where he let himself imagine the worst – and he needed her to say it to him, out loud.

“Ya came back here, though… why?” he asked. “What’d ya wan’ wi’ me?”

“Hasil…” she murmured, and she began to slowly make her way back towards him, until finally she was so close that he could have easily reached out and wrapped his arms around her. He breathed in and caught the scent of her, all warm richness, like lavender and honey, like the bright bloom of wildflowers in summertime.

“You once told me about your carin’, how strong it was…” she said. “Well… took me long enough to realize, but I feel the same.” She paused, giving him a shy smile, and then she delicately threaded her arms up over his shoulders. “I… I wanna be with you, if you wanna be with me.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself drown completely in her words. And then all he wanted was to feel her next to him, her body warm and soft against his, if only to somehow make up for the time they had spent apart from one another. His hands found her waist and then began to curve across her back, and he pulled her gently against him, the pressure on his ribs both painful and exquisite all at the same time. She leaned towards him, her face pressed up between his shoulder and his neck, the soft clouds of her hair brushing his cheek. And all this, he knew, was worth everything that he had gone through – being shot at and tied up and beaten, the uncertainty of not knowing if they were planning to kill him – because none of that mattered anymore, not a single bit, not when she was so real and alive with her arms around him, the two of them joined so tenderly together.

“Sally-Ann,” he whispered, taking a deep breath as if he could inhale her along with the air. “ _Sally-Ann, Sally-Ann, Sally-Ann_ …” He wanted to keep saying it over and over, like a chant, like some kind of spell that would keep her here with him forever.

“I’m here,” she breathed. “I’m right here.”

It was at that moment that he knew – and he knew for certain, deep in his bones, deep in the hidden corners of his heart – that this was all he ever needed. There was nothing else for him, nothing that would ever matter as much to him as this woman in his arms, holding on to him because she cared for him and she wanted him, too. There were other ties that bound him – to his clan, to his home on the mountain – but this one he would protect until he no longer drew breath and perhaps, if his prayers were answered, beyond that point as well. 

* * *

How long they stood there, Hasil had no idea – he would have been more than happy to stand there until his body gave out entirely – but eventually she raised her hand up against his collarbone, her fingertips pressing lightly against what he knew had to be dried blood.

“Hasil, we should get you cleaned up,” she said, a tiny laugh escaping her throat. “You look a sight.”

“I know,” he replied, running his hand up her back until he felt the warm expanse of her neck. At some point, of course, he would have to let go of her, but until that time came, he would enjoy losing himself in the feel of her, so smooth and soft against his palm.

“You sure it’s okay? You don’t need a doctor?” She leaned her head back so she could catch his gaze.

“Nah, ‘s fine,” he said, stretching his back a little, as a stab of pain struck deep in his side. “I’s looked worse.”

Sally-Ann cocked her head, an expression of doubt and amusement written across her face; she looked so beautiful, all he wanted to do was lean down and kiss her. But she was too quick for him, extricating herself from his arms and pushing him back towards the couch.

“Sit,” she said, as he eased himself down onto the cushions. “I’m gonna go see if there’s anythin’ useful in the medicine cabinets upstairs.”

Hasil could hear her footsteps as she trotted down the hallway and up the wooden staircase, the sound fading as she reached the top. Carefully shifting himself back, he leaned his head against the top of the couch, letting his eyes just barely drift closed. It was hard to completely relax, though, as there was something under his leg; he could feel the edge of it, digging against him. And then, with a satisfied smile, he remembered what it was. He had to curl up a little, reaching down into the side pocket of his pants, but what he now grasped with his hand was something that he knew had the power to transform his life – and the lives of all of his clan up on the mountain. “ _Humankind ruination_ ,” he remembered telling Butch. But he would be careful; he wasn’t about to let it ruin anything.

“So all I could find was some was some gauze and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide,” she called out, her voice echoing into the room. “Not sure how old it is…” Emerging from the hallway, she made her way around the side of the couch, stopping right in her tracks once she glimpsed what he was holding. “Hasil, _what_ have you got?” she asked in surprise.

He grinned, even though it hurt like hell. “I got paid,” he replied.

“Paid for what?” she asked, her voice laced with concern. “What’re you sellin’ this time?”

“Hey… what ya so worried ‘bout?”

She sighed, dropping her supplies down on the couch cushion next to him. “Your cousin, he told me about what happened, when you sold things before… how you lost your fingers….”

“Asa was here?” He hadn’t even considered the idea that Asa might have come by while he was gone. And now, of course, he was wondering exactly what the two of them had discussed.

“Yeah, a few hours ago…” she said. “He told me you all were goin’ into business together.” Her eyes focused in on him, uneasiness painted across the rest of her face. “Look, I just… I just don’t want you doin’ anything dangerous…”

“‘S fine…” he replied, gently shaking his head back and forth. “I ain’t in any danger… An’ Asa shouldn’ be tellin’ ya about those kinda things…”

“So where’d the money come from, then?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, see… I got me a job. I ain’t keepin’ it, though.”

He knew he shouldn’t smile, watching her eyes narrow as she stared down at him, her mouth pursing in frustration, but she still looked so beautiful, perhaps even more than she normally did. Judging by her reaction, though, smiling at her was not really helping him too much.

“Hasil Farrell…” she ordered, “you are gonna sit there while I clean up your face, and while I do that, you are gonna tell me all about this job you got that pays… how much is that?” – she held out her hand and he handed the folded stack of money over to her, watching as she thumbed the edges – “what looks like hundreds of dollars _in cash_ …”

“‘S a thousan’ dollars.”

Her eyes grew wide, and he found it difficult to tell if she was being just a little too forceful as she planted a knee on either side of him and straddled his lap. “Start talkin’,” she said.

“Well, le’s see now…” he began, settling himself a little more comfortably into the cushions. “So, uh… las’ night, I was bein’ held under som’ restraint…”

“They tied you up?” she asked. He watched as she grabbed the plastic bottle next to her and twisted the cap off, soaking a little white cloth in the liquid. Hasil was finding it hard not to be distracted by the fact that she was so close – perched right on top of him, in fact – and it took him a moment to think back to her question.

“More or less…” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “An’ then this mornin’, they sen’ a lady down ta talk ta me, works for th’ coal comp’ny...”

She brushed his hair back past his shoulder and began to press the damp cloth against his collarbone and neck, wiping away all the blood that had dried there. “Why?”

“Beats me,” he replied. “But she offered me a job, workin’ for them… as a _liaison_.”

“And what’d they want you to do?” she asked, dropping the stained cloth to the floor, as she then began to search for a clean one.

“S’pposed ta talk ta my kin an’ convince ‘em ta move off th’ mountain,” he answered. “She said they gon’ give th’ two a’ us a house, an’ they gon’ pay me every week.”

“You said you ain’t keepin’ it, though?”

With a gentle touch, she began to move the cloth up towards his jaw and then onto his cheek. It was tender and swollen, but she was careful, rubbing little circles against his skin to clean it off. He loved watching her like this – so focused and intent – even as he had half a mind to tell her to forget about his face and then to pull her down more firmly onto him.

“Nah… I ain’t workin’ as no liaison,” he replied. “An’ what kind a’ people think ya can jus’ buy somebody like that? Like they think I ain’t got no loyalty.”

“But you took the money…”

Her hand moved closer to his eye, tenderly dabbing under it, and then up towards his brow. And then suddenly it felt like someone was ripping the skin right off his face, the darts of pain stinging so badly that he felt his eyes begin to water. He hissed, turning his face away in a wince.

“Sorry… sorry,” she whispered, pulling her hands back from his face. “That’s good, though… means it’s workin’.”

“I shoul’ hope so,” he replied, eyeing her warily.

“Just let me finish, okay?” she asked softly. “I’m almost done. And I’ll be fast.”

He nodded, bracing himself for whatever fresh torments she might bring upon him with that little white cloth of hers.

“Anyway…” he sighed, “that money ain’t for me. I’m gon’ give it ta Asa. But… now tha’ I’m thinkin’ ‘bout it, maybe we keep some a’ it for ourselves.”

“Why’re you goin’ into business with Asa at all?” she asked. He couldn’t help but notice the way she said his cousin’s name, as if she didn’t trust him for some reason, making Hasil even more curious about the conversation that had passed between the two of them.

“He jus’ needs help gettin’ money, is all,” he said. “An’ now I’m gon’ help ‘im.”

“Hasil,” she said, pausing her ministrations, “you gotta just give him the money and then walk away. Same with this coal company. We got enough problems without draggin’ in other people’s.”

He understood what she was saying, and for the most part, he was in full agreement. But she didn’t know how things worked up on the mountain, the ties that held all the clan together, the bonds that had kept them strong over so many generations. Nor did she have any understanding of what Asa was trying to do, how all of his actions were aimed at helping to return their home to the way it rightfully should be.

“I can’t jus’ walk away from Asa,” he said, letting out a rough breath. “We’s kin.”

“Look, he told me about what happens up there when you break the rules. And he told me to look out for you…” She paused, curling her palm over his shoulder, letting it trace upwards towards the back of his neck. “Hasil, this is me lookin’ out for you. We gotta be on our own now. We can’t get involved.”

“‘We’?” he asked. He had said it partially in teasing, but still, it thrilled him to hear her talk like that, to think that she might see their futures as something intertwined.

“You and me. We’re together, ain’t we?”

“We are,” he replied, a smile unconsciously emerging across his lips as he looked at her, all soft and golden as the light from the windows cascaded in behind her.

“Good,” she said, as she wiped the last of the blood from his face. “There… done.” She threw the cloth down onto the floor and then slowly leaned towards him, so close that he could feel her breath dancing on his skin, so close that she was all he could see, the rest of the world having entirely disappeared.

She was smiling as she kissed him, just the barest of touches on his mouth. It was everything he wanted, and nowhere near enough. He arched towards her, his hands quickly gravitating towards her hips, and she pressed back in return, her warm and inviting mouth opening slightly against his. Even as he leaned against her, though, he could feel the rough bite against his side, the pain distracting him from fully enjoying the moment. They were clearly moving towards something – he could feel it in the urgency of the way she touched him – but it was hard to see how he was going to be capable of much when he couldn’t even sit up properly.

“Huh…” he murmured, just barely pulling his mouth away from hers. “This migh’ be harder than I thought…”

“Here, look,” she said, hoisting herself up and off of his lap. “Just lie down, alright?”

But even following her instructions turned out to be more difficult than he had imagined; just swiveling himself over and pushing back towards the other side of the couch caused all sorts of constrictive aches across his torso, and he was happy to finally be able to lay back and stretch his legs, a position where – for the moment – nothing seemed to actively hurt.  

With one leg, she stepped over him, situating herself directly over his prone form.

“Be careful,” he warned. At this point, he no longer possessed the energy to pretend that his injuries were entirely trivial. He still couldn’t quite believe that that they were about to do this, but if they were, he had to make it clear to her that on this particular occasion, he had some definite limitations. “Oh…” he said, feeling her weight as she settled against him. “Careful, careful.”

“Okay, I’ll be careful,” she whispered, her dark eyes warming in the afternoon light, two bottomless pools of undiminished fire.

Hasil smiled, though the shifting of her hips jarred his bruised ribs. “Careful!” he growled.

Sally-Ann bit her lip in a silent apology, her fingers sliding along his forearms, her thighs clenching a little around his waist. “I can make it better.”

* * *

Three minutes and one interruption by Asa later, Hasil settled back on the couch painfully and Sally Ann couldn’t help but feel badly at how much he seemed to be aching. But, as she settled back on top of him, she also couldn’t help but notice how much he seemed to pick up where they’d left off. “I’m the boss?” she asked, and he grinned. “I... I think I may be... I may be a little bit hurtin’ for that,” he confessed, though his body definitely responded to the way she rocked her hips. Sally Ann chuckled and leaned forward, pressing her lips to his quickly, then moving down to his neck and throat. “Here... and there?” she asked, punctuating each question with a soft kiss. She felt Hasil huff and curl his fingers into her denim covered hips.

“Jus’ take your shirt off,” he ordered and she giggled then, reaching down and lifting her tee shirt. “Alright! Takin’ it off,” she said gleefully and he laughed, even though it had to hurt to. “There, are ya satisfied?” she asked, arching her back a little while Hasil tossed her shirt to the floor.

“A wee bit,” he said. Then he reached up slowly – ever gentle and sweet - and stroked the sensitive skin of her throat before trailing down to her chest. Sally Ann shuddered while his fingertips ghosted over the tops of her breasts and settled on her bra. “You gon’ hafta take that off, though,” he decided. She took in a deep breath and watched his face, reaching around to unhook her bra. His eyes never left hers; even when she lowered one strap then reached to lower the other, his gaze stayed consistently on her own. Sally Ann was almost afraid he could read her thoughts and she closed her eyes as she lowered the bra completely and tossed it to the side. Only then did Hasil let his eyes lower, humming in satisfaction. He spread his hand wide to splay across her chest - dipped his fingers between her breasts to feel her heart thrum - while his other hand unbuttoned her shorts. She grew warmer at his touch and lowered her head just enough to take the tips of his fingers - salty and calloused - into her mouth a bit, biting down gently as she did. He groaned and instinctively bucked his hips up, ignoring the pain it caused, ignoring everything, really, except for the incessant need that seemed to have overtaken him.

Sally Ann hazily noted how dilated his pupils were. The pit of her belly felt like molten gold, and she arched into his touch, kissing the palm of his hand where moments before her skin had been. She felt drunk and dizzy, her head heady with desire and lust and all she wanted was his mouth on her skin and his fingers on her skin and him wrapped around her. “Hasil,” she whispered, eyes hooded and heavy. “Touch me.”

“I am,” he said with a dark chuckle. “You want more, don’t ya? Greedy.” He gave an equally dark laugh, and Sally Ann’s skin turned from fire to a full out inferno. “Git up for a second...” She blinked and stared at him in confusion. “I thought you..." Hasil shook his head and smiled. “Nah, nah, darlin’, jus’ trus’ me, alright? Trus’ me,” he insisted and she hesitated for only a second before climbing off the couch.

Suddenly, she was a little self conscious of her bare chest; of the shorts she still wore that gaped open, exposing her underwear; of the fact that her belly wasn’t perfectly flat. Hasil pulled himself up carefully and sat facing forward, frowning when he noticed her shrinking in on herself.  “Why ya coverin’ yaself? I done seen it all already.” She shook her head and stared at the floor. He sighed. “Nuh uh, c’mere.”

“I thought _I_ was the boss,” she muttered, but shuffled back over to him anyhow. “You is,” he concurred with a smile. “But you can’t be poutin’ like that when ya standin’ over there lookin’ as fine as ya do. Why you actin’ shy, Sally Ann?”

He didn’t understand, she realized, and more than likely never really would. She wouldn’t go into detail about it, not here, not with him looking at her like she was the moon and the stars. Instead, she shrugged and - with one arm covering her - took his outstretched hand.

“It was dark last time,” she said, smiling a bit. “You couldn’t see _everything_ like you can now.”

“Nope,” he agreed. “An’ now I’m mad I ain’t. You’se perfect, darlin’. _Per-fect_.” The way he punctuated that last word was so heartfelt, Sally Ann could feel it in her bones. She swallowed back tears and choked out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, well... you ain’t seen all of it, really, not in daylight…” And then he was massaging the skin of her thigh and she lost thought for a second, trailing off her words with a soft sigh. “Hmm yeah, well I ‘tend to see it now.” He reached up then - with both hands - and hooked the waistband of her shorts around his thumbs before pulling them down slowly. After she stepped out of them - skittish and a little bit hesitant - he followed suit with her underwear. “Mmhm,” he growled. “Tha’s jus’ wha’ I figured.” She stiffened for a second. “Figured... what?” “Perfect. Everything, everywhere is perfect.” He met her eyes and the intensity in them made her stomach flip. “Lemme see, Sally Ann.” And with shaky hands and bated breath, she moved her arms away from her body.

For a long minute, Hasil said nothing, just drank every inch of her in with his eyes, then grasped her hips and pulled her closer. Sally Ann stumbled a bit but he didn’t seem to notice, his eyes closing as he brushed his lips against her bare belly. “Let me see how sweet ya are,” he whispered. He opened his mouth and exhaled, spreading warm breath against her skin and sending gooseflesh all down her thighs and back. With his good hand, he nudged her legs apart a little and leaned forward, then lay soft, open mouthed kisses along the insides of her thighs. Hasil dipped his head then and Sally Ann held her breath, letting it go in one long, shivering moan when his tongue darted out and met her core. She dug her hands into his hair and glanced toward the ceiling, trying to find some sort of tether to earth as he began to taste.

Apparently the little taste he’d been granted hadn’t been enough,and she nearly fell when Hasil gripped one leg and brought it over his shoulder. He dove in fully then. Sally Ann only moaned, her nails scraping his scalp when he slid his tongue top to bottom, over and over until he got tired of that and started making figure eights. “Hasil, I’m gonna-” She paused, tried to think words to get out but all she could focus on was his tongue and the scratch of his beard against her thighs and how her knees shook. “Hm?” he hummed, before pulling away to grin up at her.

“Whatcha need?” Sally Ann panted a little. “I need to... sit... or something, my legs are... hey!”

Before she could finish, he scooted forward and grabbed her hips, motioning her to climb up on to the couch. “Come stand righ’ here,” he said, patting the spaces on either side of his hips. Curious, Sally Ann opened her did as he bade until her feet were sinking into the cushions, one on Hasil’s left, the other on his right. “Alright now,” he purred, sliding his hands up her calves and knees and thighs before getting a good grasp on her hips. “Situate ya’self righ’ over my...” - he pulled her hips down so that she sat directly over his face and wrapped his arms under her bottom - "...yeah jus’ like...mmhm, like that…” And then he kissed her swollen lips, opened his mouth, and went to town, making Sally Ann squeak in equal parts delight and surprise.

Now that she didn’t have to struggle to maintain her balance - with Hasil holding her up and her knees securely wrapped around his shoulders - she could enjoy just what he was doing. And enjoy it she did, losing herself as he sucked and nibbled and licked every inch of her. She leaned forward and grasped the back of the couch, moved her hips in slow circles over his eager mouth, sharp little moans pouring from her throat as she did. Hasil drank it all up. He pushed and pulled her hips along his tongue and encouraged her to move, smacked her bottom a few times too just to hear her high pitched cry.

“Oh _god_ ,Hasil, if you keep that up, I swear…” Sally Ann closed her eyes, tilted her head back and clenched one hand back into his hair while the other held the couch for balance. “I’m not gonna...mmmm, yea, like that…” She could almost feel him smile against her, and with a grand flourish of his tongue along the center of her core, he smacked his lips and pulled away, nearly as breathless as she was. “You’se 'bout ready for me then, darlin’?” he asked, his eyes shining in the stilted sunshine. “Mmhm,” Sally Ann responded, standing up and unhooking her shaky legs from his shoulders. She moved off the couch momentarily and knelt to unbutton Hasil’s pants, drug them off swiftly and discarded them alongside her own clothes. He was already in the process of taking his tank off, wincing a bit as the fabric caught one of the ugly blooming bruises forming on his torso. Sally Ann held back a gasp but couldn’t help reaching out to touch him, her fingertips just barely brushing the marred skin.

“Oh, Hasil…” she whispered, and her heart ached to see him hurt so. He shrugged a little and with a pained grunt, lifted his hips enough so he could slide his underwear down. “I’ll be righ’ as rain by t’morruh.” He reached his hands out and she took them, straddling his lap and maneuvering herself dangerously close. “All I need, righ’ now, is you. I jus’ need ya lovin’. Jus’...” He blinked furiously a few times and Sally Ann smoothed her fingers over his face, careful to not touch the roughest parts of his injured eye. “Whatever you need,” she promised, “whatever... it’s here. I’m here. I ain’t leavin’.” He smiled then, so big and bright that her heart felt full to bursting. She took his lips with hers and kissed him deeply, rocking on top of his lap a little before taking him in her hand and guiding him inside her.

They both gasped, hers a soft little moan, his an almost starving groan of want. He closed his eyes momentarily before opening them and kissing her again, and she began to move, slowly and carefully so as not to hurt him.

They moved like that for a while, the creak of the couch and their labored breaths the only sound either made. Sally Ann kept her pace leisurely and Hasil gave no protest - his only interference was the tight grip he had on her hips, guiding her, and the sucking biting kisses he left on her chest and throat. She was sure she’d have a hicky or three by that evening but she didn’t care one bit, secretly wanting him to mark her, brand her as his. _All his_ , she thought, tasting the salt of his sweat that she kissed off his neck greedily. Hasil had moved his touch from her hips to the smooth skin of her back, his fingers stroking and exploring the broad expanse of flesh there, the other arm wrapped firmly around her waist. It was almost as if he were keeping her in place, scared she’d decide to get up and leave anytime. But, Sally Ann knew, as she shifted her hips up - a little harder, a bit faster and more urgent - she wasn’t going anywhere. Not right now, especially, not when, if she leaned backward a bit, she could hit spots she had no idea felt that good. And in her fevered state, she didn’t realize the desperate moans she heard were coming from her.

But Hasil certainly did. By the time she’d decided enough was enough and that she needed more, he had his face buried in her neck, hot little panting breaths tickling her collarbone. And he was moving with her too, though in the back of her mind she wondered if some of his groans - his deliciously deep and hot groans - were from the pain it took to press his hips up, to grind against her as she took the hard fullness of him. But pain sometimes mixed with pleasure to do incredible things and Sally Ann could feel Hasil straining, resisting even, the urge to just let go.

He was waiting for her. He wanted her to reach her peak first. Sally Ann opened her eyes and caught him staring at her face, watching her in glory as she reached and stretched for her orgasm, and really, all she needed was a little bit more. Just a little bit more and she’d be there, oh would she ever, and then…

The hand previously stroking her back had a fist full of her lush hair, the other slipped between their bodies to stroke her and his mouth - his hot, incessant mouth - was wrapped around one nipple, just tasting until stars began to explode behind her still opened eyes. Then he bit down, just enough to hurt, just enough to feel so good it should have been illegal, and she suddenly couldn’t see a thing, just black and dark. And the only thing she could do was feel, her mouth open in a long, trembling cry of his name, its syllables vibrating with all the power that she herself was. She had even stopped moving on her own, Hasil’s still pumping hips the only thing stretching her pleasure to the sky and back down. And distantly, she could feel his roar of a moan rumble deep in his chest as he too, finally, tumbled down the precipice after her.

* * *

It was a quarter to four before Sally Ann ever made it off the couch.

Hasil had fallen asleep not too long after their lovemaking, curling up with her behind him, his head on her chest, and his legs hanging precipitously off the sides of the couch. Although she had enjoyed the closeness of him, eventually she had to use the bathroom and it was only then - nearly two hours later - that she even got the energy to get up. Carefully, she had extracted herself from his warmth though she missed the weight of his body immediately, and did her business, before freshening up in the sink, grateful that the water tank was connected to the electricity that was fortunately still on. Hot water felt good on her face.

She looked up in the mirror and mapped the bite marks Hasil left on her chest. Though not nearly as deep as they could be, they were still visible enough. Since she had money now, she needed to go get something to cook with, especially if they were going to have to stay here for a while. Snatching up a pen and a piece of paper from the foyer, Sally Ann made her grocery list and included a few non consumables: paper towels, a bottle of dish soap, two toothbrushes - she’d forgotten hers in her hurry to get out the house - and  probably some Tylenol and muscle rub for Hasil’s bruises. Then, with a spritz of water to her hair and a quick change of clothes, she slipped on her Keds and headed out to town.

The Zippy Bee was a lot closer to the house on Booth Hill Road than the Rev n’ Bev, so she turned west instead of east and hit Highway 430, careful to walk facing traffic. It wasn’t a terribly busy highway, a winding two lane that was mostly used by eighteen wheelers and locals. And, on today, it was pretty quiet. Three cars and a Peterbilt met her on her way to the store, and none of them were people she was familiar with.

Within fifteen minutes she rounded the curve and hopped the barricade, skipping down the grassy slope to the mini mart below. She cut across the small parking lot and entered the cool store with a nod to the clerk behind the counter. While not very acquainted with Hassim, she felt at ease with him enough to offer a friendly greeting. She pulled her list from her pocket and found the first few items quickly enough - chips, boxes of mac and cheese, a few cans of soup, the Tylenol and Salonpas - before coming across a huge bag of marshmallows beside the Hershey’s display. In her head was an image of Hasil, his mouth stuffed to its max with the sugary confections, and she couldn’t help but smile as she grabbed two bags.

The meats were in the back of the store and - after a bit of a debate - Sally Ann had decided to treat herself and Hasil to something a little fancier than mac and cheese. There were several two pack trays of steaks that Hassim’s parents got from a butcher a few towns over, along with farm fresh milk and eggs. After grabbing a package of steaks, and deciding to forgo the eggs for another time, she mentally amended her list to include Frosted Flakes and milk for breakfast. Plus, she was sure Hasil had never had the joy that was Frosted Flakes and that was definitely one more thing she was excited to introduce to him.  She was about to grab a half gallon when she heard a voice that made her hand stop short of the jug and her stomach flip: Pastor King’s nauseatingly nasal drawl speaking to Hassim at the counter.

“Now what do you mean, son, ya’ll ain’t got no public restrooms?”

“Just what I said, sir.”

The pastor scoffed at that and began a tirade of fire and brimstone though she was sure Hassim was rolling his eyes, especially when King mentioned heathen “Mooslums” - though Sally Ann knew for a fact Hassim and his folks went to the Presbyterian Church in Mooresville. She dared to turn, catching Hassim’s eye for a second as Pastor King ranted on, and with just a widening of her eyes, a shake of her head and probably the sheer desperation of hoping James (or anyone who wasn’t Asa) knowing where she and Hasil were written all over her face, managed to convey to him that she needed a way out without being noticed.

Hassim picked up the cue. “Okay, okay, fine. Here.” He handed Pastor King the key to the lone restroom in the back of the store by the coolers and when the man snatched the fob and turned, Hassim signaled for Sally Ann to hurry behind the shelf holding the cereal so she wouldn’t be seen. She squat down and waited there - grabbing a box of Frosted Flakes stealthily as she did - until she heard the door of the bathroom open and then lock, and then, she sprinted to the counter to pay for what she had picked up thus far.

“Oh god, Hassim, thank you,” she breathed and he nodded, quickly scanning her items and double bagging them since he knew she walked. “You’re avoiding him, huh?” He asked, and she nodded. “I figured,” he said quietly and took the bill she pulled from her pocket to make change as the water in the bathroom ran and the paper towel dispenser rattled. “Hurry, Sally Ann,” he whispered. “I’ll try to hold him a few minutes.” “Thank you!” She breathed, and stuffed her remaining money into one of her bags, then sprinted faster than she ever had with arms full of groceries out the door, up the slope, and back onto the highway.

The walk back to the house took a little more than half the time to get there. She half walked, half ran most of the way, glancing back every so often to make sure the pastor’s cream colored Buick wasn’t coming. But Hassim had held him off well because she was just coming to Booth Hill when she saw the taillights of Pastor King’s car stop at the intersection of Booth Hill and Magnuson. He didn’t notice her, mercifully, and she slipped to the back yard and into the house without a hitch.

Hasil was still sleeping when she climbed into the window, as she figured he would be, and so Sally Ann put her groceries away and straightened the house a bit, covering some of the lamps with doilies and dishtowels when she turned them on so as not to draw too much attention. She decided to save the steaks for the next day, maybe when she could get some potatoes to go with, and cooked the mac and cheese instead. But, she thought, as she dug out a clean bowl from the cabinet, they would have marshmallows for dessert.

She almost couldn’t wait to see his face when he discovered them.

There was a squeak in the living room and a shuffle of clothing and within the minute Hasil rounded the corner of the kitchen. “‘Elo,” he said sleepily, and Sally Ann noted how, even with just a few hours of sleep, he looked a bit better. “Hi,” she said smiling, and leaned in for a kiss. “You feelin’ any better?” He came behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist as she stirred the mac and cheese. “A lil’ bit. Not as beat, tha’s fa sure. You was gone?” She nodded. “Mmhm. Walked a little ways to the Zippy Bee and got some food for us. Ya hungry?” He hummed in affirmative. “Ain’t ate in damn near two days.”

He paused then and stared ahead of him curiously. “Wha’s that?” “Mac and cheese,” Sally Ann said, and turned her head a bit to face him. “Mac an’ who?” She laughed then, and turned the burner off, scooping a bit of pasta from the pot and raising it so he could see. “Macaroni and cheese. It’s food. It’s good, too,” she said. Hasil had a brow raised and shrugged but she could see he was willing to try it. “Well, I ain’t ever seen nothin’ that color that was food but... if you cooked it, I’ll eat it.” Sally Ann chuckled at that. “Well, here, try it first. You don’t like it, we can have somethin’ else.” He took a breath, then leaned in and ate the macaroni off the spoon, hesitantly at first, his chews slow and methodical as he learned the new texture and taste. “Mmm... I... think I... hm. I like it. A big ole bowl of that, darlin’, a big ole bowl will do jus’ fine.” Sally Ann turned to the cabinet and took out two bowls, scooping his full and hers just a little bit less. “Two bowls of mac and cheese, right up. Anything else, sir?” Sally Ann eyed the bowl of marshmallows beside the stove and went to grab it as well.

Hasil turned her around, though, with a soft smile on his face and shook his head. “Nah, darlin’. Jus’ you. Alls I really need is righ’ here.” And he leaned in, kissed her forehead, then her nose, and as soft as a butterfly, her lips.


End file.
